The moon was fat and heavy, spilling silver light over the clearing like it was trying to make everything look holy. The air smelled of pine needles crushed under boots, smoky firewood, and the nervous sweat of too many wolves standing too close. Everyone was dressed up—blacks and golds, ceremonial nonsense—like they were part of something ancient and sacred. Moon Choosing night. The night alphas played king, and omegas lined up, hoping to be chosen. Ezra lingered at the edge of it all, half-hidden in the shadows, leaning against a gnarled tree like he didn’t care. He didn’t. At least, that’s what he told himself. He tugged his hoodie lower, the fabric rough against the back of his neck—bare skin, unmarked. No bond. No claim. Just him—packless, statusless, and mostly forgotten. A mouthy omega with a reputation sharp enough to keep people away and a past he didn’t talk about. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. No one had invited him. Omegas like Ezra didn’t get picked.
Last Updated : 2025-07-01 Read more